The Conquered
by WhatMakesMeGoAw
Summary: "The intensity in her own unusual sea-green eyes displayed such concentrated hate he had to repress a shudder and look away." Two high born children. One fate. Who is the mysterious Nafkratene and why is she on his island?
1. Freedom?

"Brought her in yesterday. What do you think, son?" The gruff old man grinned at the sandy-haired boy.

The boy, who was actually in his twenty-first year, stared down in horror at the young woman, who looked to have previously been gagged and tied, kneeling on the floor of his uncle's study. Her long ebony hair was matted with a congealed paste, he wasn't sure what it was but, from the look of it, he didn't want to know. The dirt that smeared her dark features was of the same colour as her tattered cotton dress, if it should be called that, with what little of it remained. He dared not let his gaze travel down further to her shapely, and incredibly bronzed, legs, for the intensity in her own unusual sea-green eyes displayed such concentrated hate he had to repress a shudder and look away.

"Why, may I ask, is she here?" The boy said, taking his uncle to one side.

His elder appeared confused, "Why else than as your birthday present?"

Aniketos' heart sank. He had forgotten about the celebration his family were holding for his twenty-second year in four days. And he was receiving this girl as his uncle's gift. Glancing back at her he was about to kindly refuse but was cut off.

"Now, Ani." His uncle, Epaphos, warned, "You rejected my present for your twentieth, I will not have it happen again."

Even though he tried to resist, Epaphos was right. It would be a direct insult to him if he rejected him again this year. Hesitantly, he accepted her and his uncle grinned widely, calling in servants to make the girl cleaned and ready for him. Aniketos sighed after he thanked his uncle and made his way to his livery. He'd already had lovers, why give him a slavegirl? What use was she to him? Shaking his head at his uncle's insistence, he pushed the doors open and grabbed his saddle he'd had to drop when he was pulled aside, carrying on to the end of the stable where his own horse stood waiting for him.

"Afternoon, Zakhrusos. How are you?" He asked, placing the saddle on his horse's back and picking up a brush and running it over the side of his belly. A puff of air blew through his nose at Ani's face in response, clearly annoyed at him.

"I know," he grumbled, "I'm late. But this time it wasn't my fault, Epaphos held me back to give me a present."

The golden horse, an animal he had practically grow up with, nuzzled his neck and tapped his hooves on the ground a few times. Aniketos grinned, "Yeah, I want to get out of here too." He climbed up and almost immediately after he nudged the door latch open with his toe, Zakhrusos shot out, trotting enthusiastically to the stable's leading to the fields. His rider barely had time to warn the stable-hand to actually open the doors before they burst out, Zakhrusos now quickly increasing speed as if on his own accord.

They galloped across the plain of grass, the sun coming out to greet them as the clouds rolled away with the wind. Utter freedom after what was the longest winter anybody had ever had. It wasn't quite as heated as the summer would soon make, but, there only being a slight chill in the air, Aniketos couldn't care less. By far, this was much better than staying cooped up inside, sitting doing nothing. Yes, he was going to enjoy the next six months very much.

Stopping at the edge of the hill they lived on, Zakhrusos and Ani lounged on the ground, munching [apples] picked from the large tree they sat under. The hill overlooked much of the Chrissi Island, the sea a plethora of turquoise jewels glittering in the daylight. Even though it was still mid-afternoon and the tide was low, the distinct salty scent hung in the air, filling Ani's nose. The whole sight made him envious of those that were able to see what in the world was as beautiful, or more beautiful, as this. A pang of jealousy shot through him, which was not altogether uncommon around this time of year; he wished he could see what others saw, experience thrills away from his little hill. 'Soon,' he thought, getting back up to take Zakhrusos by the saddle and lead him back to the stable, 'Very soon, indeed.'

* * *

This could not happening.

That was one of two things she kept telling herself over and over. But no matter how many times she repeated it, the reality was that she was trapped. The other thing was filled with choice words, mainly to do with the men that now owned her to stick some sharp things up a certain place, only in her mind this had a widely colourful vocabulary. No matter how much she internally cursed, however, she knew resistance was futile. Being surrounded on all sides by three bustling, and handsome, ladies and knowing the guard four times her size that had escorted her here was standing just outside, Nafkratene was very much stuck.

Now, she was being scrubbed so she could be oiled and dressed to look every bit the perfect slavegirl, ready for her master's pleasure. And while the water helped with being clean and revitalisingly fresh, she was constantly reminded by the gossiping women dealing with her of the reason why. It was painful. So there she sat in a brass tub the female servants shared, baring all as they passed sponge after sponge of fragrant water over her body.

"You're quite slim, aren't you?" Commented the first, her black hair struck through with sharp white strands, evidence of her middle age. Nafkratene refused to answer.

"Not much of a talker, eh?" Said her younger companion, whose nose was covered in freckles that, in her teenage years, would have been seen as charming.

The third, an even younger, curvaceous figure with straight eyebrows framing her round eyes, agreed, "But you are right, Perliana, she is skinny."

"And very dark. Where did you say you were from?" the second asked, gently pouring water over head.

Perliana moved away to pick up a plate of oil across the room, "No point in in trying to make conversation, Erianthe," she called, "I don't think she's in the mood for it."

Erianthe leaned back slightly to look at her face, "Can you even understand us?"

Nafkratene bit her tongue to keep from cursing, instead she simply nodded, adding, rather sarcastically, "Yes, I can understand you very well, thank you. I was born in Alexandria."

"Oh look, Terpnone!" Erianthe called to the third, "She speaks!"

"All too well, it seems." She replied, producing a cloth and taking Nafkratene's hand to stand. Wrapping it around her, Terpnone dried her body, tying it on and sitting her down on a woven stool, "You're not resisting anyone anymore. And talking. That's a first."

She looked down at them lightly rubbing oil into her skin, "I realised you aren't the ones I'm angry at. Your employers, however, well, they're a different matter."

Erianthe giggled, "They can be a handful, but I don't think we have much to complain about."

"You, on the other hand," Perliana turned her attention back to her, "do have a reason to be angry." As she dried her hands, she paused, then said, "To be taken from a place as long away as Alexandria... I can't begin to imagine it."

By now they had finished with the oil and were all drying their hands in silence, ready to put her garments on her. Terpnone piped up while the clothes were being taken out, "But you'll like Master Aniketos, he's very kind. Him and his uncle have tempers but only if you push them too far."

Nafkratene's interest suddenly peaked at this. 'A temper?' She thought, 'Perfect.'

* * *

Apparently, being chosen as a slavegirl meant that Nafkratene had to abide by a certain schedule every morning, noon and night, a schedule she had to perfect in less than a week. That said, her escaping from this place would be disrupting the daily plan a smidge. Not that it'd bother her.

She still had to find him, though, whomever he may be, and take him back with her. They said he was a young orphan, a boy, and lived on the island south of Crete. Chrissi itself was small, so looking wouldn't take that long; leaving might, but she would figure that out later. So far as she had seen, however, nobody fit that description.

There she was, in a cotton dress and hair made up to somehow accentuate her features, sitting in the servants' humble kitchen, a new addition to their family. Two of the three women that had dealt with her, Perliana and Erianthe, had left to complete their other duties, leaving Nafkratene alone with Terpnone. In the past hour she had been lecturing her on the workings of the manor and the etiquette the servants followed. According to her, the servants, after they were bought as slaves, worked their way up to becoming free. It took a while but they could choose what they wanted to do after; leave or stay.

The reason she came here was simple. Get the boy, get out again, go home.

How wrong she was.

* * *

**When I read over this I noticed some major mistakes that I found quite embarrassing! Anywho, they're all fixed now...I think.**

**So, there was the first chapter! This story sort of sprung on me, and I had to get it up as soon as possible. The title might change, I don't think I'm too happy with it, so until I figure out a new one, I should probably summarise the story a bit better.**

**It's set on the island of Chrissi, which is just south of Crete, around twenty or so years following Alexandria's foundation. I don't want to reveal too much at this point but the Greek gods will definitely have a part in all this. As this is rated M, you can only guess what's going to happen between the two of them!**


	2. A Second Meeting

"I have to do _what_?"

Terpnone shook her head at her response, "I know it sounds tedious but it must be done."

"He can call me in the middle of the night and I have to just always be ready?" Nafkratene was incredulous.

"You are his kept woman, of course you do. It's the same for the servants but not in the way that you came here for."

"I think you mean 'forced' here for." Even if, technicalities aside, that detail wasn't the whole truth. She had a purpose to fulfill here and it had to be done.

The other woman ignored her, "Regardless, you're stuck here till they free you so the job might as well be done."

"But-"

She held up her hand, "And be done right."

Nafkratene bit her lip and remained silent, listening to Terpnone explain her roles. She would be expected to sleep in the servants' quarters but her room would have a bell hanging inside so if she was needed she would always know. They had given her two garments to wear; a cream chiton for work around the manor and a shorter white one during her other duties.

Another hour later, the talk had ended and they were getting ready to carry out some chores. It was then that a thought came to Nafkratene, "How do you know so much about that sort of thing?" She asked Terpnone as they made their way up to the linen room.

Looking away, she blushed, "I do the same for Master Epaphos."

Nafkratene blinked, "He's so _old_, though."

The redness in her cheeks deepened, "I don't mind that, he treats me with respect and makes sure I'm always well looked after."

Stopping there, Nafkratene knew that that was the end of the conversation. She sighed to herself and carried on through the vast halls, seemingly stretching endlessly in front of her. Thinking about it now, she had never realised the size of the round manor, only getting a glance of it when she was first brought here. From what she could remember the 'hill' the stately home stood on was made from blocks of stone, cut to resemble the curving face of a hill, chunks of moss patch-working the sides with green. A rocky slope smoothed with wooden planks mounted over it connected the place to the sea directly, and so the docks bridging the water to the front door. Thick white columns circled the equally white building, supporting around three floors, their bases buried in earth covered in fertile grass spanning a field stretching completely around, a handful of olive trees dotted here and there.

Nafkratene, who at this moment began noting how visible she, and hopefully the boy, would be on their escape; the island, from house to shore, offering no hiding places. There wasn't even anything to make a shadow to duck under.

All in all, she hated this place more and more by the minute.

* * *

Out on Zakhrusos again for the fifth time that day, Aniketos decided to head back inside. He would hardly find anything new on the same patch of land no matter how much he looked. He walked through the open hallways to the kitchen after a quick change, in search of something to eat. As he went past a corner, he spotted two figures walking in his direction and almost stopped in his tracks at the sight of one of them. It was her, the new slavegirl. _His_ slavegirl.

She seemed deep in thought and neither had noticed him yet, allowing his eyes to travel over her form. Unlike the first time he saw her, her deep brown hair was clean and fell in waves to her small waist, framing her tan face and off-setting the vivid marine of her eyes, a puzzling feature for one that seemed so...foreign. He couldn't help but stare.

It was as he watched those graceful legs move, though, that both girls noticed him. Her companion, whom he recalled was named Terpnone, immediately halted a couple of metres away and lowered her head, "Master."

She, on the other hand, indiscreetly looked him up and down before begrudgingly doing the same. Raising his eyebrows at this, he addressed her directly, "I didn't quite catch your name..." He trailed off.

Lifting her head, she plastered a forced smile on her face, "I don't recall giving it, sir."

He bit the inside of his cheek, amused, and glanced at Terpnone, "Carry on." When her brow creased, he added, "I'll send her back in a moment."

Not being able to argue, she nodded and continued on alone.

Aniketos turned back to her and closed the distance by half, "You can give it now."

"Nafkratene." She answered bluntly, seeming unruffled at his actions.

"Nafkratene..." He repeated, testing her name, "A bit long, no?"

Whatever her thoughts were, she didn't answer.

"I think it's too long." Agreeing with himself, he leaned forward, whispering, "Especially if I need to call out your name for any reason."

Yet, much to his surprise, she still seemed unfazed, "If you would excuse me, sir, I must go and complete my chores." Without waiting for his answer, she stepped around him and was on her way.

The corners of his mouth kicked up as he kept a close eye on her behind until she was out of sight, remaining there for a few moments. Any woman in her position that had the nerve to act like was something else. And for the first time that day, he imagined himself with her in not entirely innocent circumstances. Sadly, that would have to wait till after his birthday but with a girl like that joining him for the night, he didn't care.

Whistling to himself, he turned on his heels and continued on to the kitchen, finding he looked forward to his special day after all.

* * *

**Cheeky, isn't he?**

**I don't have a very strict update time and I feel this chapter was too short for my taste. Granted, I have no fixed plan for the story either. This multichapter is a little out of my comfort zone as I've only really done one-shots. Oh well, we'll see how it goes!**


	3. The Mistress of the Manor

Just as Nafkratene pushed the door to the laundry-room, a servant came up behind her, saying she was to go to the Mistress' rooms immediately. She bit her tongue to hold back from snapping at the messenger and nodded tightly, keeping her ideas about having to see another responsible for this place to herself. Terpnone had told her that the manor was owned by, unusually, Master Aniketos' unmarried mother, whom they referred to as 'Mistress', and whom personally inspected every slave that was brought in.

She went into the laundry-room to inform her acquaintance, now turning, it seemed, friend, of where was expected. Understanding, Terpnone offered an encouraging smile and Nafkratene followed the messenger to this Mistress' chambers.

It was quite a walk, considering the size of the place, and soon found herself at the bottom of a wide set of marble steps, leading up to the second floor. The servant motioned for her to continue up herself, going back the way they came shortly after and leaving her to think on what sort of woman awaited her.

By the time she got up the staircase, she stood in an open landing, circular, like the rest of the house and surrounded by large carved doors. The one facing her directly was open so she assumed to go through it. She didn't quite get over the threshold when a clear voice came from within, "Come." It ordered.

Entering, the glanced around the room, a sort of living room, ornamented with lavish treasures sitting on expensive furniture, a set of doors at the end of the room, assumedly leading to a bedroom, in the middle a chaise longue with a striking woman perched upon it. She sat elegantly, her white chiton trailing around her ankles and distinct against her auburn hair framing her face in a relaxed chignon. Her hazel eyes peered at her form and though her full lips relaxed slightly, Nafkratene did not. This woman's demeanour screamed regulation and establishment, two words she shuddered at even the thought of.

"What is your name?" The Mistress asked, meeting her eyes.

"Nafkratene."

"Age?"

"Nineteen."

"Where are you from?"

"Alexandria."

"How did my brother come to find you?"

"I was taken from my home, across to Lycia to dock then to Crete where I was sold serve here."

"That's it?"

"Yes."

A plucked eyebrow rose, "You seem in good shape. A beautiful girl like yourself is sure to...capture my son's interest," She gave a haughty smile, "From tomorrow you will spend your time attending him, cater to his needs. Do not let him engage in relations with you, that is for his birthday night."

Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, she nodded, clutching the back if her dress to relieve some of her frustration.

The Mistress stood and she grew stern, "I assume you've been taught how slaves are punished here. We allow more freedom than the mainland but not without consequences if exploited," She raised her hand towards the exit, "You may go."

* * *

Finally, she arrived at the laundry rooms, heading straight to where Terpnone sat scrubbing some sheets in a water basin, "I can't believe these people." Nafkratene confided, flopping down next to her and picking up a sheet of her own, soaking it and starting to scrub too.

Terpnone glanced at her nervously, whispering, "What do you mean?"

"I mean," she loudly slapped the cloth against the side of the basin, "That I am owned by a tightly wound spinster and her chronic pervert of a son."

"Nafkratene! You must not say such things!" Her companion argued sharply, "Do you want to be punished?"

"At this rate-"

"Enough! You are a slave here now, so start behaving like one. We are given more flexibility and rights that those like us in Greece proper cannot enjoy. If you truly want to leave, work for it."

Being surprised at Terpnone's outburst was an understatement. Looking away for a moment, Nafkratene mumbled an apology, "I'm sorry I'm so difficult. I never was one to follow rules."

"You have no choice now." She replied, continuing with her work.

Deciding to change the subject, Nafkratene thought to gain some insight into who else lived in this manor, "It would be much easier to be here if there were any children to play with around."

"Well, I'm afraid you won't find it easier, there are no children here."

She froze, "Are you sure?"

It was the second time in their conversation that she was looked at strangely, "The servants and slaves are not permitted to have children and the Mistress and Masters don't have any either."

That couldn't be right. She was told there was a boy here that she had to take back with her and he most certainly lived on this island. There were no other inhabitants, the manor was the sole place of residence. Her eyebrows knitted together as she tried to see past her own confusion. How could she be so misled?

* * *

A large platter of meats, bread, cheese and fruit was laid out in his personal parlour overlooking the fields he had previously been riding across. Sitting down to eat and crossing his legs on his footstool, the fields captured little of his interest. Rather, the eastern sea beyond the grass, sparkling in the setting sun, as calm as ever. He knew little about sailing but how he yearned to set off on a ship of his own and just...leave.

Of course, he had never told anyone as much, not even his uncle. Aniketos knew he was being unrealistic but his mind always got away from him, no matter how hard he tethered it to his rocky hill. He sighed and popped a grape into his mouth, not turning around to see who it was entering from the door behind him.

"Ani." Came his mother's voice.

"Evening, mother." He responded curtly.

She perched regally at the other end of his chaise but fiddled with a ring on her forefinger, not quite meeting his eyes.

"Are you alright?" He asked

"Oh," she glanced at him and hid her hand in the folds of her dress, "Yes, I'm fine." Her back straightened and she turned her full attention to him, "I've come to tell you that your slavegirl will be spending her time with you from tomorrow onwards. You can get used to her that way."

He raised his brow, "Hilaeira's arriving here the day before, though."

"Ah, yes. You won't be seeing her again."

Aniketos ran a frustrated hand over his face, "Why?" He asked flatly.

"I know how close you and this one have become, and not just in the physical sense."

He didn't respond.

"So," she continued, "the last time you'll meet her is your birthday."

"You didn't answer my question." Tight-lipped, he gazed out the window sadly.

"That girl, I have found, is an unfaithful temptress. She wove her way into our lives to get to the riches the gods have blessed us with, just like all the others before. I myself thought she was different but it seems like we were both wrong." Standing, his mother looked down at him, "You must end the relationship. I don't care how, all I want is her out."

Gone with a swish of silk, he was left in silence, his appetite gone. He should have expected as much from his mother. Hilaeira was the sixth girl he had to cut himself off from on his mother's orders. He truly thought she was going to stay, that she'd be the one to save him from this place. It was a wrong practice they had involved themselves in, yet he had little choice in the matter. Forcing smiles was becoming too difficult.

* * *

**I completely understand how confusing this whole story is but it'll all be cleared up, I promise.**


	4. Revelations

The next morning, Nafkratene was made to wake early in order to be ready for her first day of attending her...Master. As she pulled on her chiton, she shuddered at the thought, and chose to think about why the boy she had been tasked to collect was very much non-existent. She sighed as she pulled back her hair and washed her mouth in the small bassinet she shared with Terpnone, who wasn't here at this precise moment. Exiting her room, the hustle and bustle of the servants of the manor was already well underway, and she wondered why there were so many if there were only three they served.

Grabbing an apple, she made her way to his rooms, walking as slowly as she could. When she finished her breakfast, she looked around for anyone that might be watching and threw the core far out an open window, watching it roll down the hill and out of sight. She sighed again and continued on, getting there earlier than expected, and waited outside the closed doors with only the circular landing to keep her company.

An endless amount of minutes passed and her frustration grew before she couldn't take the silence anymore and she gently opened the door to his drawing room and entered.

* * *

He didn't remember getting into bed last night, but he didn't put it past the servants to have carried him to here. Sitting up, he rubbed the back of his aching head and stretched, lazily rising from under his cotton sheets and heading through the arch to his own copper tub. It was only after he had stripped himself bare that he realised it hadn't been filled. He let out a groan of annoyance and pushed open his bedroom doors, "Alfios, I told you to make-" He started, cutting himself off when he saw his visitor looking out the wide window to the sea.

She jumped at his loud entrance and turned quickly to face him, appearing to regret doing so when she took in how lacking in attire he was. Aniketos could have sworn he spied a blush creeping across her cheekbones but he himself was too startled to make a note of it, "You're not Alfios."

"Unfortunately for the both of us." She quipped, keeping her eyes glued to the ceiling.

He studied her for what seemed like an age, almost refusing to cover himself, "You shouldn't be so harsh on me," he pouted, "I'm surprised you've neither thanked nor complimented me yet, either."

Her fists clenched and she looked him in the eye, "Is there anything you want me to do, sir?"

Grinning, he pointed his chin in the direction of his room, "My bathtub needs filling up with hot water." He wet his lips, "It has to be steaming."

"On its way, sir." She turned and his eyes fell on her behind again as she exited the room.

Aniketos flopped down on his chaise and placed a pillow on his lap, resting his arms on the back and smiling as he watched the clouds pass slowly through the blue sky. It was going to be a very interesting morning.

* * *

She came back sooner than he expected, carrying two hefty-looking pails filled to the brim with piping hot water. Standing in the doorway - not even appearing to be straining - she smiled too sweetly at him, "Should I take these through?"

He nodded, astounded at...well, her. Never would he have thought that someone so small could carry so much, and so quickly. After hearing the water being sloshed into his tub, Aniketos didn't feel so comfortable with how bared he was. When she returned, he kept the pillow planted at his groin and gingerly got up, shuffling around her and retreating into his room, grinning stupidly as he did. Before Nafkratene could leave, however, he popped his head round the corner and asked, "Where are you going?"

"Out." She responded, holding her hands behind her back, her face tight.

"No you're not." He stated, "You have to stay and wash my back." The little voice at the back of his mind told him this was a bad idea. But who, he reasoned, ever listened to that voice?

* * *

Bristling at his request, she stopped herself from turning and leaving. Greater good, she thought, repeating the two words that had become her mantra for the past day. Apparently pleased with her silent agreement, he cocked an eyebrow and his head disappeared, the sound of the bath water shifting meant she had to go in. With him. Alone.

Nafkratene found him lying in the large tub, lean muscled arms thrown over each side, the lower part of his chiselled torso hidden, thankfully, beneath the water. His eyes were closed but she knew better than to think he wouldn't start talking again. At least, for now, he was quiet.

There was a wooden stool in the back corner of the washroom and she dragged it over to the back of the tub, where his blond head rested, and sat there, hands folded in her lap as she reverted into her own mind.

Then she saw the scar.

It was tiny, around the size of her thumbnail, just on the crook of his neck and only visible because of how close she was to him. Peering at it, she made out the round shape, triangular flicks facing outward surrounding a...her eyes widened, a lyre.

"So," Aniketos started up, moving his hand through the water till he came up with a sponge, "How about that back scrub?"

She swallowed, taking the sponge, her throat now very dry, not taking her eyes off the mark. And that's what it was, a mark. Nothing so intricate could be the result of a simple burn or scratch; no, this was an intentional mark that's meaning she knew all too well.

"Uh...Nafkratene?" He purred.

"Oh!" She exclaimed, placing the sponge to his shoulder blade and mumbling her apologies.

Sighing contentedly, he leaned forward slightly, "No more back chatting, then?" When she didn't answer he made a sound of disappointment, "Aw, I was really quite enjoying it."

In an attempt to focus on his words, she shook her head and blinked, "You enjoy a servant openly despising you?"

"There it is! I knew you couldn't stop hating me for long." His chuckle rumbled beneath her palm but she didn't understand his sentiment.

She rolled her eyes and wrung out the sponge, plopping it on the tiled floor, "Well, I suppose I'm done here. If you need me at all," She warned, leaving, "don't."

"Don't worry," Aniketos picked up the sponge and sat up, washing his arm, "You'll be back here soon."

Nafkratene could only agree with him. For the boy she was going to take back with her was very much a man.


	5. Leverage

He liked her.

He _really _liked her.

She was new and different and someone that would stay with him. Aniketos doubted his uncle would have even considered purchasing her without his mother's consent given; so, for now, she would remain. He passed the sponge she once held over his shoulder again and grinned at his own excitement. It had been a while since he was eager for his birthday to arrive but, this time, he knew to enjoy the unfamiliar feeling in his chest.

Standing, he stepped out of the tub and dried the water dripping down his body, raising his eyebrows at the tunic carefully laid out on his bed and throwing it on. Coming out of his bedchamber, he mused over the household's unconventional rules. By now, Nafkratene would have already been in his bed, waking up from the night before. Yet, she was tending to him in another way, serving instead of, well, _serving_ _him_.

He plucked a freshly picked apple from a tray by his bedside and made his way out into the hallway, munching distractedly as he did. So immersed in his thoughts was he, that he very nearly flattened the small woman standing by the door, her tightly crossed arms falling apart in an attempt to steady herself. Almost dropping the apple, he caught her shoulder before they both slammed into the wall behind them.

"Why, hello." He murmured, the corner of his mouth kicking up, "Back so soon?"

She rolled her eyes and moved away from him, "I found out I'm not supposed to leave your side."

"Good news for me, then."

"Unfortunately."

* * *

"His name is Zakhrusos." He proudly announced.

Nafkratene, who couldn't stop forming and dismissing plans in her mind, didn't want to enjoy any of this, but the horse standing in front of her was too beautiful to not appreciate. The steed nuzzled her forehead and blew into her hair through his nose, clopping his hooves gently. Though she suppressed a chuckle, she petted his neck and allowed herself a small smile.

Watching this, his owner let out a puff of disbelief, "He likes you. Why does he like you?" He turned to the horse, "You don't like _anyone_."

With one more pet at the Zakhrusos' side, she handed the reigns over to Aniketos and opened the gate, watching him clamber on fluidly and trot through the stable doors into the morning light. She followed them out and stood to one side, watching as they leapt and galloped across the green, weaving in between the rows of apple and olive trees.

It could not distract her for long, though. That mark flashed into her mind once again. Apollo's secret sigil was unmistakeable and taking into account why she was here in the first place meant that she had to figure out some way to bring him with her. Groaning not altogether quietly, and passing a hand over her face, she looked out to the sea and grimaced, "Thanks."

* * *

Every now and then, Aniketos would rest down next to where she sat on the grass, Zakhrusos grazing nearby. They maintained small talk, commenting on the weather, the architecture of the house, the field.

"Can I ask you something?" He asked, fiddling with a blade of grass.

"Haven't you already?"

A chuckle, "Right. Where are you from?"

She let out a breath through her nose, "My mother's native to Aegyptus and my father was a Greek soldier."

"'Was'?"

"He's retired." She replied curtly.

"Oh. At least that explains why you look the way you do." When she gave him a questioning glance he explained, "Your eyes. Sometimes green, sometimes blue..." He cleared his throat, "And your nose and cheekbones, very Greek."

Nafkratene, in spite of herself, blushed against his own golden irises, "May I ask you something?"

"Want to know more about my wonderful self?" He leant back on the ground, "Ask away."

"Where's your father?"

It was his turn to feel awkward, "I don't know. My mother says he died before I was born. I think she's hiding what really happened and has been lying to me since I became conscious of what lying was."

Her eyes grew impossibly wide, "And how did you come to that conclusion?"

"I've had a lot of time to put things together." He shrugged.

She watched a number of emotions play over his face, not quite being able to pick each out. As she watched him, it was the first time she noticed how handsome he was. A straight nose, sharp jaw and eyelashes a few ladies, and gentlemen, she knew would kill for. Taking a deep breath, she tried to calm her quickly heating face, "What are you going to do next?"

At this he remained silent. Then he met her gaze, eyes narrowed, "Why am I telling you all of this?"

"I'm a good listener." She smiled.

Returning the smile, he concluded that, yes, he _did_ like her.

* * *

That afternoon, after spending a total of two hours out on the field, Nafkratene brought a plate of meats, fruit and bread with a decanter of wine to a study next to Aniketos' chambers. She hadn't the slightest clue what to do, for once, she would have to remain here longer than first thought. It seemed like he wanted to leave, but she could only wonder why he hadn't already. One thing she was sure about was that she couldn't tell him who he was and where they were going until she had a plan. All that needed to be done now was to think one up.

She found him sitting at his desk, scowling down at something behind it. When he noticed her, he put whatever it was away in his tunic and grinned up at her, "Ah, food!" Setting his lunch on the table, he picked up some bread and meat and bit at it hungrily. A few moments of chewing passed before he held up his meal to her. "Want some?"

Declining his offer, she took a breath and asked to leave.

His brow creased as he swallowed his mouthful, "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she clutched her hands at her back, "Just tired."

Rising from his seat, he put his food down and rested against the desk, "Anything I can help with?"

"Perhaps. But I don't want to involve you."

"Oh?" He moved towards her, "Are you sure?"

Nodding, she kept in eye contact with him, "Yes."

Now, he was around a foot away from her, clenching his jaw before speaking again, "Listen, I've never had someone to talk to like that before. I'd like to thank you for that." His voice grew quieter as he looked down at her, pushing a lock of hair from her face and slowly closing the remaining distance between them, inching his face nearer to hers. She stood frozen when their lips met, his gentle but probing pulling her into him.

And she almost fell forward if it wasn't for his hand lightly travelling up her arm to the pin of her chiton. A bubble inside her burst and she roughly shoved him away, "We aren't allowed to do this yet."

"On whose orders? My mother's?" He responded seethingly, "You are mine, not hers."

"Excuse me?" She whispered, her fists in tight halls.

He didn't notice until then that the decanter and the flower vases around the study began to tremble until all the wine and water gushed out of them, rising high and circling around her body, a strong sudden wind swirling through the room. Nafkratene bellowed down at him, the water, stained purple, lifting her off the floor, "I am Nafkratene Poseidonis, Daughter of the Earth Shaker and Lord of the Seas. You dare lay claim over me?"

* * *

He stared at her, sheer power rippling off her being, the sinews in her arms pronounced and her long hair flying about her. Her oceanic eyes were reflected in the liquid lashing about her.

"A daughter of Poseidon?" He shouted back, "Why on earth are you here?"

"That is none of your concern yet."

"Yet'?"

Her eyes narrowed and she put her arm out, quieting the water and directing back into where it came, once again standing on the ground, "Yet. You'll find out why soon enough. Until then, you speak of my identity to no one."

When she turned to leave, he began to laugh, "I don't think so."

"What?"

"Why don't you want anyone to know who you really are?" Aniketos didn't wait for an answer, "No matter your reason, you've given me quite the piece of leverage over you."

"Please." She challenged, "Revealing my identity will be nothing but a small hindrance to me. You saw what I did with the miniscule amount of water in this room. There's the whole sea out there, I wonder how much your leverage will help you when faced with it."

"Oh, but will I be facing it? A demigod as powerful as you can't possibly be on a small quest to such a small island for no reason. There is something important you're here for and you aren't going to leave till you've gotten it!"

Biting her tongue to keep from revealing everything, she saw he took her silence as a defeat and she kicked herself for letting it go so far.

"So," he began again, his breath short, "Do I now have your undivided attention?"


	6. No Attachments

There was no use bartering, he got to her. No one ever managed to do that, and yet, here they were.

"What do you want?" She demanded.

"What do I want?" He repeated as he stepped so close their toes and chests touched and she had to crane her neck backwards to look him in the eye, "I want you to sleep with me."

She could feel her face flush, "Your mother said we aren't supposed to."

"Have I once shown any care for what she says?"

"Maybe now can be a start."

"Not a chance," Aniketos grinned and moved back, once again leaning against the front of his desk, "Don't feel as if I'm forcing you. But, as you may have noticed, I can be quite persuasive."

She bristled. If a man had ever spoken to her to like that, he wouldn't have a chance to finish his sentence. Seeing him pour over her with those hungry, desirous eyes, however, she couldn't help the rising heat of her nether regions. A bout of silence passed between them for a few seconds, and, deciding to break it, she held up her hand, five fingers outstretched, "I'll give you five chances to win me over to your bed. Waste them, and we swear off each other. Succeed, and I'll be at your mercy for a purely physical relationship."

He considered, a hand holding his chin, "No strings attached?"

"None."

"Why?"

"Terpnone is in love with your uncle. I don't want the same happening to me."

"Hm," he frowned in thought, "And if we do start developing feelings?"

"We walk away."

"When will I find out why you're here?"

"That's for me to decide." She held up her hand, "Do we have a deal?"

"I think so." He smirked, taking her hand and kissing it.

Nodding once, she turned and left the study, relieved at their agreement, which would begin tomorrow morning.

Though it was small, she had a semblance of control on the situation back. He would keep quiet, she would figure out how to escape and once she did, they would leave. From the way he spoke of his mother, it seemed that he already had intentions of quitting the place, but she wasn't going to tell him of her plan until she was sure.

* * *

The night passed quicker than she wanted and Nafkratene soon found herself in his company again.

"How do I go about this?" He asked the next morning, popping an olive into his mouth.

She passed him a slice of apple, "Figure it out."

"This is hardly fair. We've barely known each two days and now I have to impress you with my charming debonair?"

"Be thankful that I've given you five chances at it."

"Where did that come from, anyway? You commandeering this deal?"

She shrugged, rising from the edge of the chaise and pouring some water and handing it to him, "I'm good at what I do."

"That being..."

"None of your business."

"I'm so happy we share so much with each other."

"Get used to it."

"Then lets talk about the obvious." He suggested, "Your beauty."

"Go on." She encouraged, sitting on the low table in front of him.

"I'll be damned if I ever saw eyes like yours before. I've already commented on their depth, but they're your father's, aren't they? Just like the ocean. Their shape isn't Greek. Leaves are the best comparison. Your lips, so pink and inviting, as if Eros' bow were made into flesh. And your skin, smooth enough to put silk to-"

"You can stop. I don't believe I have the stomach for poetry right now."

"But that was so good!"

"One gone, four to go."

She couldn't tell whom he croaked a few curses at, himself or her, before he stood and told her to come with him, ending up in the stables with him handing Zakhrusos' reins to her. Taking them, she smiled up at the horse and quickly climbed on, settling, and trotting out the door.

She went around and around the open fields, once rising to a gallop as she sped across the green. And Nafkratene started to enjoy herself until she noticed how surrounded they were by the sea. It was the first time she felt trapped by her own element, which should have been impossible.

Taking back Zakhrusos to his owner, he studied her expectantly, "Well?"

"This beauty impressed me. Not you," she went into the stables and leant against a wooden beam, "Three left."

"I really don't like you."

Simply raising a shoulder, she watched him take Zakhrusos out himself, staying there for a good hour or so before heading back to his chambers.

* * *

"I think I'm asking too many questions. I think," he said that evening, taking her hand and pulling, catching her thighs to place on his, straddling them, "that I should just show you what I can do."

"You're awfully full of yourself."

"I have reason to be." He murmured as he captured her lips, letting his hands ghost over her arms and down her waist until they reached the edge of her chiton.

Nafkratene glimpsed the mischievous gleam in his eye before his fingers travelled beneath the material to trace the curve of her bottom, "I can't wait to see this." He whispered.

She gasped and clutched at his shoulders, "And what is this to prove?"

He nipped up her neck and jaw and sucked on her earlobe, "Restraint." He grunted, giving her lobe once last peck before detaching his mouth from it, leaning back against the chaise and replacing the skirt of her chiton, holding his hands very still on either of him.

"Commendable," she said, lifting off him, "Very commendable." And with a final look, she walked out the door.

Watching her go, Aniketos couldn't decide if her leaving was a good or a bad thing. Good, because he was noticeably aroused and could not, for the life of him, calm himself; bad, because she was his only cure.

It wasn't until quite some time passed that she returned, just after he managed to regain some control. This time she wore a shorter, whiter dress that grazed slightly above mid-thigh. Her hair was out and the straps of her sandals loose.

"I did it?" He asked tentatively.

She nodded and slowly moved towards him, clearly nervous, "I do have to uphold my part of the deal."

He regarded her questioningly before it hit him, "You've not done this before, have you?"

She shook her head in answer, holding her hands steady in front of her as he closed the space between them, cupping the back of her head and brushing their lips together, "You wanted to know if I would be able to stop." He breathed

"And you did."

Cocking and eyebrow, he gave her a half smile, "Does this mean you trust me?"

"Something like that." She managed to get out before his mouth met hers with full force, slanting his downwards to get hers open. Reaching down, he hooked his hands round the backs of her knees and lifted her, linking her ankles at the small of his back, removing sandals as he carried her to his bedroom.

She didn't expect to, but she kissed him back, weaving her fingers through his short blonde hair. Aniketos held her back and they lowered onto the bed, his lips moving to the sensitive skin between her neck and jaw, lightly sucking at it as he reached the pins on her chiton, easily undoing them and pulling the light cotton down her body. Holding himself over her, he took in her blushing cheeks, open mouth and her pert breasts, brown orbs peaked.

Then he noticed something, "You have lovely beauty marks." He remarked, scanning the little spots dotted across her skin, "Lovely enough," he hovered over one just under her left breast, "to eat." He gave it a gentle open-mouthed kiss, doing the same for the rest of them about her; her neck, the inside of her arm, another just behind her ear, one at the center of her back, finally stopping at, he believed, his favourite spot: two, side by side, on her bottom.

By now, Nafkratene was on her front, shiver after shiver passing up her spine, somewhere along the way, his tunic had come off too. But he was taking his time and she didn't know whether to feel grateful or annoyed. Her hands clutched at the sheet beneath her as she felt his breath whisper over her skin, "I like this." He quickly flipped her over and she found his gaze searing her centre, climbing up to kiss the corner of his mouth, "Let me taste you."

Nodding, she watched him travel down her body, flashing his teeth at her and spreading her legs apart to swirl around her nub with the tip of his tongue. She gasped and arched her back as he slowly ran down the length of her sweetness, getting onto every fold and crevice, leaving her a quivering puddle under his ministrations.

A surge of pride swept through him as he regarded her jaded eyes and rising chest, once again kissing her and settling between her legs. He looked questioningly at her and she nodded, holding his hips as he moved into her. Biting back a cry, she wrapped her arms and legs around him, unknowing of the strain in his face.

Soon she relaxed, sighing back into the pillows with a small smile on her face as he began to pump into her, unhurried and dragging out every aspect of their copulation. She felt his hands everywhere, touching her everywhere, kissing her everywhere.

Finally, that every rising peak arrived and they let go together, riding out their pleasure as wave after wave hit them. They stayed like that for a few moments, still joined with their legs intertwined, breathing heavily, until Aniketos rolled off of her, "Wow." He whispered, breaking the silence.

"Yeah." She sighed.

He lazily turned on his side to face her, "So, how was your first time?"

"You want me to give you feedback?" She exclaimed, raising a brow.

"Nah, your face said it all."

"Charming." She blushed, despite her words.

He was quiet for a few seconds after that, drawing indistinct patterns onto the skin of her thigh. Then he asked, "Did you have anyone special back in Alexandria?"

She bit her lip, looking for the right words before giving up, "One boy. We grew up together but I left before we became a couple," She gave him a sidelong glance, "What about you? Any girl that's made your heart swell?"

"Not really," he admitted, "My mother sends prostitutes from the mainland for me to, as she put on my sixteenth, 'satisfy myself without fraternizing with the common-folk'."

"Ew."

"At the time, I was all for it. Why wouldn't I be? But after a while, I began to realise how stupid this set up was. The ladies would leave right after I became attached to them."

"That's horrible." She scrunched up her nose, "

"Not really. I myself try not to get attached."

Seeing him tell all, she finally made her decision, she needed to let him know, "I need to tell you something."

"What?"

Reaching for his neck, she lightly touched the mark there, "Do you know what this is?"

"My birth mark."

"In a way. It's more a sigil used secretly by the gods."

He furrowed his brow, "And it's on my neck."

"This one is Apollo's. See the arrows and lyre?"

"What's it doing on my neck?" He repeated, sitting up, now very confused.

"Aniketos, do you know who your father is?" She asked, getting up with him.

"No..." He mumbled, staring blankly at her, "How...how do you know?"

"I'm an agent of Olympus, I have to know."

"An _agent_? To do what?"

"Take you away from this island."

* * *

He woke up.

He knew he would, but when he opened his eyes to see her laying beside him he was glad that she stayed was still here. The smile that had made its way onto his face had disappeared when he noticed she hadn't been sleeping as peacefully as he had.

Nafkratene's head was turned away from him, looking out the window to the calm sea, her breathing measured, the moonlight pouring over her and illuminating her hands folded over the coverlet on her chest.

"Do you miss him?" He asked quietly, resting his head on his propped up arm.

"No." She responded, keeping her gaze on the waters, "My father and I don't get along."

Aniketos chuckled, "I meant the boy."

At this she sadly faced him, the light crowning her head as she shook it, "We've said our goodbyes and have made peace with our decision."

He tried to hide his satisfaction, "If you could, would you return to him?"

A delicate brow rose, "Are you jealous?"

"I am not the jealous type."

She gave him a disbelieving look and sat up, keeping the sheet around her body, and swinging her legs over the side of the bed, "I should head back."

"You don't have to go." He muttered.

Pausing, she glanced at him then down at her lap, taking a shaky breath, "Ask me."

"What?"

"Ask me and I'll stay."

He grinned and took her hand, "Stay with me."

"That wasn't a question." She pointed out, but allowed him to gently pull her back to his bed, nuzzling her neck as they settled down.

"A request, then."

"Even requests sound like questions."

"Let it go, will you?"

"Don't tell me what to do."

He sighed a defeat and pushed a lock of hair away from her face, giving her a peck on the lips and closing his eyes, "Sleep, alright?"

"Alright."

"Oh, and, Nafkratene?"

"Hmm?"

"Thanks."

"For what?"

"For telling me the truth."


End file.
